so you made your own thread for this project, huh?
re-posting this idea I had here then.

>Lancelot: Flirtatious French Squire, may have a vested interest in Hazel.
Keeps making passes at Hazel
doesn't know she used to be a squirrel
fails miserably every time by giving her things like kittens and other stuff squirrels hate
Hazel always runs right back into Aurthur's arms afterwards, clinging to him for dear life

A day in the life of young, alternate history, re-re-imagined Disney setting Lancelot.

going to post the rest brainstorming I did in the thread on /co/.

Going on the assumption that this is an alternate time line, at some point this version of Aurthur and Hazel will probably become detached from the prime time line as history flows in the way it is predetermined to flow in. The versions wondering the wasteland being our discarded-by-time incarnations of the characters as the Aurthur in the prime timeline slowly forgets about all events that were not meant to transgress, as if they were a forgotten dream.
I always thought they were in the wasteland to begin with for that reason, looking for an alternate Camelot where things were less set in stone.

I've been puzzling it for a while, and that's the idea I came up with that makes the most sense given the content we have. I'd like to know what OP (the one commissioning animoose) had in mind as a back story as to how and why Aurthur and Hazel with in the wasteland though.

I see the wasteland as a giant loophole where alternate versions of characters can continue to exist even when they are not logically supposed to. The loophole abuse is endless and goes even further if we take into account the /co/-verse settings, and by extension the multi-board-verse settings. Only Hazel would probably be able to venture into those settings though.

As for the knights, imagine if all they were actually beetleworx built for Arther after the blot is defeated. They could find out they deviated too much from history when they entered wasteland and can't go back, so they make the most of things in wasteland by building a new Camelot or something.
I figure the time line would go something like
>the movie happens
>Aurthur, now king, goes on some kind of adventure with Merlin where he gets future memories
>Hazel happens
>More Hazel stuff (learning how to act like a human, sword training, etc)
>Something happens that pulls them into wasteland
>All the wasteland pics and stories happen, blot is defeated
>Realize they can't go back since they ventured past the 3.5th wall
>Merlin shows up and Aurthur meets the older version of himself from the prime time line in OP's pic
>Older Aurthur only has knowledge of any of this because of Merlin and maybe Yinsid's magical tomfoolery and won't remember any of it, it's just to give everyone closure that things will be taken care of on both sides of the "mirror" as I'll call it.
>Knights in wasteland adventures start happening.

Building upon the now-permanent-residents-of-the-wasteland idea, we have some other entity (blot remnants or something else) trying to recreate the events of the prime time line (which lacks Hazel) by introducing the beetleworx knights in an attempt to make things similar enough to where Aurthur will fade back into the prime time line in the Disney verse and said entity will be able to escape wasteland by latching on to him when that happens... or something.

We could take this in just about any directions, but I'd rather it remain more lighthearted and comical.

Thoughts? Opinions? Anyone have any alternate ideas/ways to tie everything together?

So here's the first part of Knight of the Wool for you to peruse and critique:

“Come along, Hazel.” Arthur chided, gingerly slipping in-between two trees as he did so.

A sound not wholly unlike that of a pantry shelf spilling its contents on the kitchen floor rose in answer before Hazel could.

“Be right there.” Her muffled voice cried. At least, that’s what Arthur thought she said. Honestly it was getting to the point he could barely make out what she was saying anymore.

She tried to follow suit through the trees only to find herself wedged in between them.

Arthur bit back a chuckle, “Could you please take off that ridiculous outfit before you fall into a river.”

“There’s nothing ridiculous about what I’m wearing!” she tried to protest but all that came out was a gurgled jumble of sound. Her indignation spoke volumes though.

In a way that was true. For the past few weeks, the people of Albion had been terrorized by what they could only describe as a giant wolf; A beast as tall as a man with hair as black as night and teeth as gold as the waxing moon that was large and powerful enough to shatter wooden borders and carry off whole heifers in its jaws to its den in the woods. Or at least, so they said. Hazel had come with him to inspect the damage and as he asked the villagers questions she had wandered about, sniffing the air, looking perplexed. She soon told him that it didn’t smell like a wolf had come around those parts. Closer inspection and a more forceful line of questioning revealed that a farmer had lost control of one of his bulls in the middle of the night, shattering several of his neighbors’ fences and scattering a number of nearby sheep into the woods where they were probably devoured by very real, regular-sized wolves. That seemed to settle things. The monster was shown to be a rumor and a scapegoat.

Honestly, it was absurd that this wasn’t the most ridiculous way someone had tried to weasel his way out of paying fines since he had taken the throne. The moment word had gotten out that one of his closest confidants was a wizard, people would come to him with the most outlandish claims of supernatural forces, eldritch spirits and arcane curses running rampant in their communities. He wished he could outright dismiss them, he really did, but given the company he kept that would be incredibly hypocritical on his part. Merlin wasn’t much help in debunking these claims. Every time he asked him if such a creature or spell or happening could exist the old mage would shrug and blithely say, “It’s possible.” As many of his knights didn’t have much experience with magic, Arthur often found himself having to go down and verify these claims himself.

The ones that tended to bother him the most were the ones involving witches. They occurred often with the accused coming in all shapes, ages and sizes and the grounds for their prosecution being just as varied. Anything from an odd accent to a caustic mumble could set the skittish parts of these peoples’ minds ablaze. The slightest peculiarity in these troubled times could set of a paranoid frenzy in the populace. There was a logic behind it however deranged as it was far easier to blame the troubled experienced by a village, a city or a nation on the actions of a singular individual, Arthur knew this all too well. Not that that made these hunts right by any extent of the imagination.

Hazel frequently went with him on these trips to keep him company as well as to see more of England. Granted, angry mobs wielding torches and pitchforks (sometimes in broad daylight) began to look alike after a while but she always found a way to occupy herself while Arthur tried to make sense of the situation. Case in point, there was one rather frustrating incident wherein a particularly petulant noble and a crowd of villagers was on the verge of throwing an unfortunate bound young woman into a river of modest depth. The logic being that if she was to float then she was a witch, as characterized by their supernatural lightness. It was a rather half-baked version of the test, there wasn’t even a rope on her with which they could pull her up with in case she didn’t float and even if there was, the current of the river was far too strong for it to be of any use. Not that any real witch would find herself at the mercy of such a farce. Arthur shuddered to think what would happen if anyone tried to subject Madame Mim to such trials, there’d be talk of purple dragons raging around the countryside for months.

The noble, a rather portly and disagreeable fellow, was grilling him after he had voiced disapproval of the village’s methods. He went on and on, lambasting Arthur for having a warlock (a common misconception) in his council, accusing the young king of conferring with infernal forces instead of eradicating them as the heavens intended. Hazel had wandered off in the midst of the man’s ramblings, leaving Arthur alone to contend with the onslaught of zealotry and spittle. Arthur ran his hand over his face, his hand taking its time as it slid down his features in a futile effort to muffle the cacophonous slander.

As he opened his eyes to confront the madness once more, he noticed something floating down the river. It wasn’t a stick, a leaf or any manner of natural detritus but one of the pitchforks that had somehow avoided recruitment into this war against the arcane. Over time more items drifted into view, apparently joining the pitchfork in its great escape. The crowd had their backs to the river, the noble too busy yelling at him, the villages too transfixed at seeing their king being raked over the coals, and the imperiled accused too frightened to look away from her only chance to escape. But eventually, all followed Arhtur’s perplexed gaze to the river whereupon they were greeted with the sight of various articles of clothing, farming implements, and containers of assorted shapes and levels of buoyancy going past. Before anyone could pin the blame of this odd but incredibly mild nuisance on the “witch”, Hazel came into the picture, walking along the riverbank, humming slightly to herself and carrying in her arms a bundle of miscellaneous items, none of which were hers. A small jug was propelled toward the waves with a flick of her wrist, a villager’s eyes widened in recognition at the tossed object, and the mystery was solved.

Almost instantaneously, the noble had diverted his attention away from Arthur to the young redhead blithely lobbing apples and dinner utensils into the water. He asked, no, demanded to know what she was doing. In contrast to her cross, jittery attitude as she was trapped between two oaken trees, Hazel blithely answered in a manner that was almost polite, “Checking for witches,” The noble gaped at her, flabbergasted. “Good thing too, there seem to be a lot of them here. Not to worry though, some of the stuff just sank so you’re probably mostly safe.” She then expressed surprise at his inquiry. After all, it was the way to test for witches wasn’t it?

A man less prone to anger would’ve seen the irony of the misconception, perhaps even called for his peers to go after the tossed items instead of shouting at the top of his lungs and demanding immediate compensation with interest for Hazel’s careless blunder. Not that you could tell by listening to him as all his threats, commands and lamentations melded together into an incomprehensible torrent of thunderous unpleasantness. No one seemed to know how to react to the deafening gibberish. Even the mob was robbed of its bloodlust as they slowly began to back away from their furious would-be leader. All save Hazel who after enduing two full minutes of the man’s incensed gibberish, wiped a speck of his propelled saliva off her face and promptly kicked him into the river.

Of course, he did give Hazel a firm talking to about respecting the property of others afterwards and compensating the villagers for their lost belongings put a strain of the all ready worn royal coffers. But it was the ideal outcome for matters of this sort; with no one hurt and a smile on his face once all was said and done. This wolf business seemed to be going that way. The people’s minds were eased with the knowledge that it had all been a hoax that had spun out of control. Given time, the talk of it would die down completely and no more attention would be paid to it.

Then a seven-foot wolf walking on two legs tried to break into a laundress’s home in broad daylight, in plain sight for nearly a dozen men and women to witness the violent attempted invasion. The beast bounded into the forest, leaving as quickly as it had arrived, but the damage was done. What might have been ruse had become reality. There was a monster living amongst the trees and no one in or near them was safe.

Search parties were sent out, guards posted at the edge of hamlets that bordered the woods but nothing came of it. Arthur even put up a reward, the amount of which being technically more than he could afford) for the wolf’s capture to little avail. He was at a loss as to what could be done until Merlin casually suggested that he try finding the wolf himself. Which would’ve been fine by him if he knew the territory. Though he had gone into the forest a number of times he didn’t really know his way around it and that was a must if he was going to go after something that probably knew it like the back of its hand...or paw as it were. And so with every other hunter and tracker refusing on the grounds that hunting a beast that large and fast alone was tantamount to suicide, he turned to Hazel, a former denizen of those dark timberlands. She agreed, reluctantly and with much protestation and locking of doors, but she agreed to guide him on one condition.

And now here he was, trying to pull his companion, decked out in a full suit of armor, from a breach of trees she was far too bulky to fit through, as she was dressed.

“I still don’t understand why you have to do this.” She grunted as he continued to pull. “Couldn’t you just send more of your shoulders to find it?”

“Soldiers, Hazel, soldiers.” Arthur replied, trying to get a better grip on her armor. “And no, I think the reason none of them have caught it is that large groups make too much noise and take a while to get mobilized.” He explained as his search for a decent handhold continued in vain. “I thought one or two people would stand a better chance at catching up to it but I’m starting to have second thoughts.”

“Does that mean we’re turning back?” Hazel asked, her eagerness amplified and words distorted by her much too large helmet.

At that, Arthur ceased his efforts at pulling her free. “Hazel, this is getting ridiculous. We’re not going anywhere while you’re wearing that.”

“Just use Excalibird to cut the trees away so I can get through.” She tried to point at the sword by his side, but couldn’t get any farther than his stomach with her crimped limbs.

“Excalibur, Hazel,” Arthur corrected. He looked to the legendary blade sheathed at his side. When he had, against his better judgment, decided to bring with them on this quest in case the extraordinary wolf was resistant to ordinary swords. He never dreamed he’d be using it for this though. “Maybe I should just cut you out of that armor instead.”

“No-no-no-no-no! You promised, Arthur!” Futile attempts to wag her finger at him were made, which only caused her oversized gauntlets to shake.

“You can hardly move!”

“That’s because I’m stuck!” she panted. “I can move just fine otherwise.”

Arthur sighed. As he made ready to pull Excalibur from its scabbard, a thought came to mind. Just a small thought, laughably simple and yet… “I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

“What wouldn’t hurt?” Hazel asked, a bit worried at seeing Arthur’s hand fall away from Excalibur’s hilt.

Without a word, Arthur stepped directly in front of Hazel and put his hands on her breastplate. She would have blushed if he hadn’t given her a strong shove shortly afterwards, sending her toppling from her wooden prison and landing hard on her steel-covered back. “OW!” she yelped.

“Sorry.” She heard Arthur say from outside her vision. Within moments he was hovering over her, his expression an absurd mixture of amused and penitent. “I guess it did end up hurting a bit.” He apologized as he stretched out his hand.

Hazel took the outstretched hand in her clunky metal one and tried to get herself vertical as best as she could. Arthur did what he could to pull her to her feet. By some miracle, Hazel managed to get upright and the search continued.

Well that's all I've got so far, I've got part 2 nearly done but I thought I'd give a sample. So yeah, say what you enjoyed, what needs improvement and thanks for reading.

On another note, Animoose (aka Richard Suh) will be hosting a table in the Los Angeles Comikaze convention next saturday on the 15th. Be sure to drop in and say hello if you're in the area.

the parts I like are Hazel's simple approach to solving problems, though I'm not sure how smart you're aiming for her to be written as.

well, there are new pics to post and since this project has its own thread now...

This pic is from shortly after the initial transformation to human form when she's still trying to figure out how all this human stuff works.

And this one.

>>45787
A bit too much nudity I'd say.

>>45790
I must be blind then since I don't see any nips or asses or slits.

Are you talking about collar bones? Or maybe you're an ankles man.

Came up with an outline for this Gawain-Agravaine adventure on regular /co/, and would love to know what you think of it. Also, someone drew up this adorable picture.

-During dinner time, the Green Knight bursts into Arthur's hall.

-His challenge is made and Agravaine jumps the gun and slices his head off.

-The Knight is of course fine with that and says that his decapitator is to meet with him the next day at The Green Chapel to repay his debt.

-Agravaine scoffs at the idea, and a tired Arthur agrees that it'd be silly for him to go. Everyone turns in for the night. However, Gawain feels obligated to meet the challenge and come sunrise he sneaks out of the castle and rides for the chapel.

-Upon arriving at the chapel they find it in a constant state of twilight, day at times, night at others putting the two personas at odds as Agravaine wishes to leave, while Gawaine desires to honor their deal.

-As they struggle they are found and subsequently knocked out by The Green Knight who proceeds to drag them into the Chapel.

-They wake up to find themselves in a cage suspended from the ceiling. The Green Knight explains that they're a tad early and that he'll collect what is owed in an hour or so.

-To their side is another cage, this one holding a young girl that the Knight claims is his daughter. He then wanders off, presumably to sleep.

-as night briefly falls over the room, Agravaine breaks out of the cage, taking the captive girl with him. (A hostage that comes with her own cage? Things are finally looking up for me!)

-Unfortunately for him, the exits seem to be cast in permanent daylight.

-To make matters worse, the Green Knight returns, brandishing an enormous axe.

-Agravaine is forced to run deeper and higher into the Chapel, taking care to stay in the night-black shadows, the Knight's daughter snarking about how ineffectual he and the rest of Arthur's "freaks" are.

-Agravaine makes it to the top of the labrynthine chapel.

-Exhausted, furious and a tad frightened he looks up to the star-lit sky and briefly recalls how his family would sometimes swallow their revulsion of him and stay with him as he futilely tried to stay awake to see the sun.

-An unfamiliar feeling of peace washes over his gnarled soul and he frees the daughter from her cage, telling her to get out of his sight before he does something uncouth to her nethers.

-The Knight arrives and Agravaine stands resolute, his shoulders squared and says, "Make it clean you big green jackanape, I'm owed that much."

-The Knight obliges but before the axe makes contact with Agravaine's neck a brilliant flash of light consumes them both.

-Gawain wakes up to see the noontime sun and the Green Chapel nowhere in sight. He declares, "I'm alive? Splendid!" and begins his journey back to Camelot.

-the door of a dilapitated shack opens to reveal the Green Knight's daughter, now dressed in rags and looking quite cross.

-She deposits a basket of groceries next to a seated Madame Mim who ignores her in favor of conversing with an invisible entity she refers to as "roomie".

-She tells her "roomie" that she understands now why she never got an apprentice because Morgy is the biggest pain in the neck she's ever had, always tampering with forces beyond her paygrade.

-Morgy goes to her room, flops onto her cot , takes out an old book and mutters, "Hopefully my next spell will be a little more obedient."

I kike your Green Knight story. Now who could Mim's roomie be?

We actually got a few new pics out of the the most recent thread, such as this one.
Merlin brought back souvenirs from the future.

I also had an idea for a Green Knight after I read you, only in the wasteland setting.
An army of mini beetleworx Green Knights that don't die when you break them apart, they just reassemble and keep coming, if you break enough of them apart at the same time then they reassemble into a bigger beetleworx Green Knight.

>>45808
and from that pic we got

>Hazel: Mmmm, what's this made of?
>Merlin: Hazelnuts I believe.
>Hazel: (Bites her arm for a moment) It tastes nothing like me!

>Fun Fact: Red Squirrels enjoy tree sap from time to time.

to

>I can see a hilarious incident with both of them getting covered in syrup or sap while collecting it to make syrup as per Merlin's future cooking recipe.
>And then pancakes. The earliest record of pancakes existing was the 5th century BC, that's 1,000 years before the time King Aurthur existed (5th century AD)
>Pancakes are a plausible instigator for this syrup quest, but then that makes it too similar to that episode of The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack I think.

which yielded this pic

and then we rambled on about pancakes, crapes, and forks for awhile...

might as well post the other new pic we got out of that thread here now that it's 404'd.

Feels like we're starting to veer off track from Hazel a little with all these knight stories though.

New Hazel commission by Animoose.

"Arthur had never seen a mermaid before. He had only heard tales of them back home in England. How could a nation surrounded by water not have legends of the sea and the terrible wonders that it could house?

And yet, though his vision was murky in the oceans of Wasteland, he couldn't help but notice that there was something not quite right with his would be-saviour. The texture of the seashells that formed her top appeared to be that of solid foam or shiny, padded satin. He could see the faint outline of human legs underneath her scaly lower body as if her tail was one big glittering stocking that she slipped into on occasion.

However, Arthur could feel no malice in this deception, no wickedness in this apparent disguise. Excalibur remained at his side, there was no threat for it to vanquish. Perhaps if he had been younger he would have accepted this creature in its totality, too enthralled with wonder to question the smaller inconsistencies that fueled his disbelief.

The easing of his ravaged lungs proved the magic of her kiss was real enough. However, so was the furious look on Hazel's face. Arthur tried not to blush as he thought of this mermaid having to do the same to save her from drowning as well."

A bit of a prequel to The Siege of Silent Cove.

https://plus4chan.org/b/coc/res/32561.html#45383

Animoose is almost done with the Sky Sheathe, and he looks to be mostly free for the next week or so.

Any Hazel or Sword in the Stone stuff in particular you want to see him draw next.

I've got a couple of ideas, but if you have some you think would look good illustrated, then by all means, say so.

1) Swordfight between Hazel and Grieve-tan

2) Arthur, Hazel flee from the grotesque, thinner-spewing sea serpent masthead of the Naught-Loss with the caged feet of the Wasteland King.

3) Half-dressed Arthur and Hazel covered in syrup and playfully trying to smack one another with pancakes.

4) Generic fluff, Arthur and Hazel kissing or something like that.

>>45992
number 2!
I vote for Arthur and Hazel fleeing from the grotesque, thinner-spewing sea serpent masthead of the Naught-Loss with the caged feet of the Wasteland King!

That sounds really cool.

As they were on the cusp of ascending to the upmost peak of the mountain, Arthur entertained the idea of setting or even dropping Hucua down. Surely the source of the light that had guided them through the choked remains of the Kingdom of the Sun all the way to these verdant hills and fields that it guarded with its glow would blind those that gazed at it. Hazel was a little ways ahead though. Arthur made to warn her to cover her eyes before she proceeded further only to see the young girl stop in her tracks, transfixed at something ahead of her. He hurried to reach her, Hucua's babbling a tepid buzz in his ear. Then he saw it too. There, floating above a deep, earthen crater, was the scabbard. Arthur looked in awe at the sight; Even the ever talkative golem he carried on his back was silent.

It seemed impossibly large, a pillar of light, a luminiscent column that reached into the sky far beyond their sight. But although it was bright, its glow did not burn or blaze or harm; It soothed, like a candle in the endless night that kept the shadows at bay, or the tender heat from a fireplace amidst the harsh wintertime cold.

At this distance, Arthur could see that only the chape, the cap, was physical in any sense. A simple triangle of gold, decorated with runes that resembled different things for those there: For Hucua they looked like a sun framed over a valley, Hazel saw them as an abstract bird of prey while Arthur thought they represented a sage eye atop a great tower. Regardless, all understood, that this trinket was the seed from which this immense, lustrous megalith had sprung from.

This was what he had come to the Wasteland for; this innocuous looking answer to Excalibur's destructive power. All ready he could feel the dreams of cleaving atoms in twain and unwittingly unleashing cataclysm across the Earth fade in the face of this great talisman. With this, he would never need to fear again, he could live forever, the kingdom he would build would stand till the end of time and perhaps even beyond it. He understood why the Blot wanted it now. It had shielded this portion of the land in defiance to all its schemes and campaigns and would surely protect his own from injury of any sort. This was why he was here, why he had come all this way...wasn't it?

let's just post the order of events so far here.

Epic Hazel:
The Number i
9 to 5
Siege of Silent Cove
The Sky Sheath
Reunion
Epic Hazel

Arthur & Hazel:
Training Days
Once and Future

So what are your plans for "Arthur & Hazel"? Just normal stuff going on with no big plot like "Epic Hazel" had?

"Everything drowns," The grey horror knight Aggro-Vain had rasped moments before his corpse green transport devoured his wounded armored form.

The ground beneath the serpent's head began to swell and crack; foul black water started to leak from the earthen fissures. A warped roar of effort bellowed from the creature's mouth as six massive, metal legs of rusted brass burst from the land.

Their cruel knife-like tips smashed into the growing muck, groaning and shuddering as they made to pull something even larger out with them.

Arthur and Hazel stood there, mouths agape. The boy's arms were still extended, Excalibur's lustrous edge shaking in his weakening grip as golden circles of light within the tainted pool rose to reveal eyes that shone an empty glow, each the size of his head. He nearly screamed when he felt a harsh tug on his sleeve.

"We have to go!" Hazel commanded, herself at the cusp of running as she pulled him to join her.

"You heard the lady! Start running blondie!" Oswald's head yelled.

And so they ran.

And as the monster's titanic maw surged from the ground at last, filled to the brim with ink-blank teeth attached to bloated flesh, it pursued.

But amidst the blood-curdling roars and the crashing din of the Pastel Forest being smashed into the ink-blue sea, Arthur couldn't help but wonder how Oswald had managed to yell at him without any lungs.

Another excellent commission by Animoose, and the last for a little while.

Self explanatory I think.

>>46192
>Sepia! Sepia everywhere!

Hazel as a servant from Fate/Stay Night.

New pic.

New pics.

This one is a WIP still I think.

We got some new pics.

Mont Blanc

I'll check the NSFW box for this one, even though nothing is showing.

Here's some fairly recent pics

This is the newest sketch.

>>49361
I adore that line quality. I wonder how it's done.

>>49362
It's done in Manga Studio, though I don't know the exact brush Psu was using when it was drawn.